Known (20 page)

“Did you find anything else at the cabin?” Chris asked. “Any trace of the shooter?”

Hawes smiled. “We found some interesting things that I’d like to ask both of you about.” She glanced at Dr. Rutledge. “Are we done here for now?”

“Yes. I’m going to examine the forest ranger a little later. Did you want to observe?”

Hawes glanced at her watch. “Why don’t you call me afterward with a briefing? Francisco Green’s supervisor is in the waiting room with another of the ranger’s coworkers. Why don’t you let them know when you start? I don’t think they want to come in, but they wanted to be here. I’m going to find a quiet place to talk with Chris and Gianna.”

Her smile was kind. Gianna felt Detective Hawes genuinely cared about the case and would be ruthless in the hunt to find her answers. Her job in New York had required Gianna to interact with a lot of detectives, and Hawes was the exact type she wanted pursuing her case.

“How about we grab a bite of lunch?” Hawes suggested.

“I’m starved,” agreed Gianna. Working at the examiner’s office had never affected her appetite.

Chris gave a rueful shake of his head and touched his stomach. “I don’t mind watching the two of you eat.”

He ate three pieces of barbecued chicken pizza. After smelling the autopsy suite, Chris had believed he wouldn’t eat for a few days. That idea had dissolved as soon as the three of them had stepped through the restaurant doors and the good food odors pushed away the memory of the burn victim’s scent. The lunch rush had already cleared out and the restaurant was quiet. Hawes’s partner, Henry Becker, had appeared within moments of their being seated.

Chris had never been inside a medical examiner’s suite. He hoped he never had reason to go back. He’d never forget the sight of the victim under the bright autopsy lights. He didn’t understand how Gianna and Seth Rutledge got up every morning and happily drove to do that job.

Doesn’t it get to them?

He was thankful there were people in the world willing to deal with death. They sought answers to help others. He wondered how it’d felt today for Gianna to be on the other side of the autopsy table, unable to jump in and perform a job she was trained to do, find the answers to her questions. It must have felt like she had her hands tied behind her back. At least they knew Seth was thorough.

Chris had watched her face as she examined the gold medallion. She’d been careful not to speak until she’d seen the other side, but her face had told Chris she connected with it. When the medallion was first highlighted in a picture, she’d blinked several times, as if trying to clear something out of her view. When she’d seen it in person, she’d pressed her lips together, her eyes widening, and her hands quivering the tiniest bit. Once she’d stated that she believed it was hers, she’d relaxed, but until that moment Chris could have sworn he’d nearly seen a cloud of tension around her.

How the fuck did her necklace end up on a dead man?

He didn’t like it. Someone was playing a fast and dangerous game, moving a murdered body into Gianna’s cabin and setting the cabin on fire. Chris firmly expected the fire would be declared arson. Everything circled around Gianna. Her necklace, her rented cabin, her life under attack. Had she been intended to die in the fire? He also believed she’d been drugged. Now that he’d spent time with her, he knew she was nothing like the confused and awkward woman he’d woken in the Suburban. She’d ingested or inhaled something that affected her.

He hoped Nora Hawes would have some answers. And he hoped Gianna wasn’t covering up something dangerous.

More dangerous than being drugged, caught in a fire, and shot at?

He watched her bite a slice of pizza and wipe the sauce from her lip. A dreamy look entered her eyes as she chewed, and he smiled. She was enjoying her food, but he was enjoying her company. She didn’t intimidate him. “Intimidate” wasn’t the right word . . . few people intimidated him, but there was an easy comfort to being in her presence that made him want to stay. Most people made him want to spend more time with Oro.

“You’ll be happy to know we got an evidence team up to the cabin early this morning,” Nora began. “Obviously we recovered the bodies and delivered them to the examiner. A fire investigator is scheduled to go up this afternoon or tomorrow.”

Gianna set down her pizza. “Did the evidence team have any opinions on arson?”

“That’s not their area of expertise,” Henry said.

“But they’ve told you something,” pushed Gianna.

Henry and Nora exchanged a look. “Several of them commented on the smell of an accelerant. But it could be from something else.”

Right.
Chris could see in their faces that they were certain the fire had been arson but were holding back on using that term until they had official word.

“What did you want to ask us about?” Chris questioned.

“First I’d like the two of you to take a look at some of the photos they took this morning.” Nora glanced at his empty plate and then met his gaze. “They’re of the forest ranger.”

Chris nodded, steeling his stomach, wondering if it would have been better to look at them before he ate.

Probably not.

On a tablet, Nora pulled up a series of thumbnails and chose one, then held the screen out for him and Gianna to see. “The footprints with the blue markers . . . do you remember if they were there before you left?”

Chris was relieved to see Francisco wasn’t in the first picture she’d picked.

Gianna scowled as she looked at the photo of the snowy and ashy porch of her rental cabin. She pointed at a large indentation in the snow. “That’s where I landed when I dived away from the shot. You can see how I scrambled in the snow, and I assume this one is my boot print from when I ran. It looks like two or three inches of snow fell since I left . . . my boot mark isn’t very clear. I don’t know about the ones with the blue markers. They’re definitely more clear than mine. They must not have been made until well after I left.”

“We figured that one was yours. It matches the smaller ones in the ash in the cabin. But we have a mystery set. It appears someone walked up to the ranger’s body after he was killed.”

“Did he go in the cabin?” Chris asked.

“Yes. We’re extremely lucky Francisco took pictures and Gianna managed to grab the camera,” said Henry. “It’s clear that someone visited the cabin and both bodies after you left. Take a look.” He switched to a set of side-by-side photos. “Here’s the one Francisco took and here’s one an evidence tech took from the same location.”

Tracks littered the ashy floor in the second photo.

“Francisco wouldn’t let me walk in until he’d photographed the scene,” Gianna said softly. “I wonder if the second person knew that we’d taken photos. Did he tamper with the bodies at all?”

“Our John Doe looks the same in the crime scene photos as the ones that Francisco took. Obviously we don’t have a first set of photos of Francisco’s death.” Henry took a deep breath. “But you saw him immediately after the shooting, right? I want you to think back to that moment and fix in your head an image of Francisco. Then we’ll look at our photos.”

Gianna closed her eyes, her throat moving as she swallowed.

She sees death every day. She shouldn’t have any problem with this.
Chris realized he was holding his breath and quietly exhaled, knowing he shouldn’t worry for the medical examiner in the chair next to him. But she’d talked to and interacted with Francisco in the moments before he was murdered. And been present for his death, the evidence splattered across her face and clothing.

Anyone would struggle.

She opened her eyes and nodded at Nora, who revealed a new photo.

Chris looked away, the image burned on his retinas. Francisco Green was spread-eagle in ashy snow. Half his head was gone, his blood staining the snow around him.

Gianna was quiet. Chris finally looked back, keeping his gaze on her, not the photo she was intently studying.

Her profile was perfectly still, her gaze darting over the photo. She tucked loose hair behind her ear, never looking away from the tablet.

“He fell on his right side when he was shot,” she stated. “When I grabbed the camera, his right arm was stretched out above his head and his left arm was across his body, his left hand in the snow. Someone rolled him onto his back.”

“Anything else?” Nora asked.

Gianna was quiet another second and then shook her head. Nora closed the photo.

“The team is still gathering evidence,” said Henry, “but it was pretty clear when Nora and I were up there this morning that at least one other person walked through the scene inside the cabin.”

“Did anyone else from the area report the fire or deaths? Perhaps it was someone from nearby who went inside,” suggested Chris, searching for another explanation.

“No other calls. We’ve canvassed the other nearby cabins.” Henry glanced at Nora. “There’re not many.”

Chris nodded in agreement. “But what about the footprints outside? Surely he left a trail coming in and going out.”

Nora sighed. “Too much new snowfall. Right next to the cabin we can make out the prints because there was some protection from the walls. But as soon as we moved away, the tracks were lost. Even around Gianna’s Suburban, it almost looks like nothing ever took place. Except for the fact that the window was broken out. We want the vehicle for evidence,” she said, with an apologetic look at Gianna. “I arranged to have it brought back to town. We shouldn’t keep it long.”

“That’s the least of my worries,” said Gianna.

“Sanchez said the items that you’re missing from your home are more personal than valuable,” Henry said. “Obviously we’re moving forward with the idea that it might be related to what happened up at the cabin.”

“Both incidents seem very focused on Gianna,” Chris pointed out. “I get that there are two men dead, but everything seems to be circling around Gianna. And her daughter.”

The two cops looked at Gianna with thoughtful expressions and she visibly squirmed. “That’s not news to anyone. But I’ll say again, I have no idea who would want to harass me.”

“I’d say this goes far beyond harassment,” Nora said in a dry tone. “I’d like you to try to find some old photos with that medallion if possible. You said your uncle has them? Where does he live?”

“Southern California. But he’s supposed to arrive in town today.”

Disappointment crossed the detective’s face. “Is there someone else who can look through them while he’s gone?”

“I’m sure he can assign it to one of his assistants or staff.”

“Staff?” Henry asked. “Wouldn’t he ask a family member?”

“I’m it as far as family goes. And he has plenty of spare staff. That’s his business. He owns WorkerBee, the temporary employment agency, and has offices all across the United States.”

“That’s who called you today?” Chris asked. WorkerBee was huge. A successful company built on a reputation of caring about its employees and always listed as one of the top one hundred places to work in the States.

“Yes.”

Chris wondered if Michael had discovered that fact in his background check on Gianna.

“I didn’t connect you with WorkerBee,” Nora said with a frown. “It’s not referenced anywhere in your history.”

Gianna gave a small smile. “Uncle Saul has worked hard to protect my privacy. He’s tried to eliminate any traceable connections between me and the business . . . with my blessing. I prefer people know me and like me for who I am, not whom I’m connected to.”

Chris understood. In Oregon the Brody name was synonymous with politics. His real father had given decades of public service, working his way up through state and national politics.

“How big is this business?” Nora asked. “Would an angry former employee strike out at you to get back at your uncle? What about competitors? Are there any implications here in business competition?”

Gianna leaned back in the restaurant booth, surprise clear on her face. “There’s no way. What would be the point of stealing some of my things to get back at my uncle? Or setting that fire? I don’t see the connection. I don’t have anything to do with his work.”

“That’s what I’m trying to feel out. Maybe it’d be a good idea for you to talk to your uncle while he’s here. Perhaps he knows something that could shine a light on your situation.” Nora tilted her head. “Is that like him, to immediately fly out when you’re in trouble? Did you tell him everything that happened?”

Gianna silently stared at Henry and Nora, tension spiraling around her again. Chris fought an urge to tell Nora to ease up on the questions; the detective was right to explore the possibility. WorkerBee was huge and part of an extremely competitive industry.

But this feels personal. Not like a business dealing gone wrong
. . .

“Why don’t you arrange to talk to her uncle?” suggested Chris. “Like Gianna said, she keeps her connection to his company to a minimum. No doubt her uncle can tell you what you need to know.”

Nora and Henry exchanged a look. Henry nodded.

Chris tensed as Nora leaned forward and paused to search for words. She pressed her lips together and held Gianna’s gaze. “I told you we’d canvassed the other cabins. Our teams found another murdered man. He was in one of the cabins closest to where you were staying.”